


Between You And Me

by toraguru



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Aphrodisiacs, Bottom Steve, Explicit Sexual Content, Finger Sucking, Fuck Or Die, Hand Jobs, Hurt Steve, Iron Man Suit Kink, Kidnapping, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 12:33:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2269854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toraguru/pseuds/toraguru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is kidnapped by terrorists, and it's Iron Man to the rescue in more ways that one. AKA, the one where Steve is given sex drugs and Tony has to give him some relief. </p><p>Shameless, unabashed porn. I'm not sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between You And Me

It was four o’clock on a Sunday when Jarvis announced that Steve Rogers had been kidnapped.

 

Tony was in his room, sipping coffee and working over some notes from his latest project. The jet propulsion system he was designing had some minor flaws that were compromising the efficiency of its fuel usage, but the math involved was upping his body’s caffeine quota. By like, a lot. This was probably his seventh cup. In fact, Tony was just about to go and get another when the news broke.

 

“Sir, S.H.I.E.L.D. has regretfully informed me that Captain Rogers has been detained by a domestic terrorist organization,” Jarvis informed him. “Shall we gather the team?”

 

Tony slid off the bed and stretched, scratching at his unwashed hair. “Any deets about the terrorists?” he asked. It wasn’t like being kidnapped was a unique thing. It probably happened, he didn’t know, like three or four times a month. Usually they took turns.

 

The screen on the wall blinked on, showing scrolling mugshots and different angles of live footage, mostly of the warehouse headquarters. “I cannot find any information on their name,” Jarvis admitted. “It is possible that they are not an official organization.”

 

Tony barked a laugh as he stepped into his undersuit. “That’s a ballsy move. They don’t even have a name, yet they’re trying to take down the Avengers. Did they even see the James Bond movies? No-name criminals are as good as redshirts.” He paused to consider. “Think they saw Star Trek, either?”

 

“Sir,” Jarvis chastised him. “Should we assemble the Avengers?” he repeated.

 

He pulled the suit over his body and let it snap to his shoulders. “No need, Jarvis. I think I can handle this one on my own. Rogers isn’t that helpless, right?” He pressed the button on his wrist that would bring the Iron Man armor to him.

 

“You are right, Sir.”

 

Like the images Jarvis showed had predicted, the terrorist HQ was nothing more than an old factory warehouse. A company that sold sweaty gym socks, if the smell gave anything away. Tony engaged the air filter on the suit and took out the burly guards with ease.

 

“Jarvis, any intel on Rogers’ location?” he asked. A wall of crates was hiding him from the group of guys sorting weapons up ahead, dividing heavy guns and landmines with slow, meaty hands.

 

“He appears to be directly beneath you, Sir,” Jarvis said. The visor displayed a blueprint of the warehouse with a red dot underneath Tony, on the second floor.

 

“Check,” Tony said, and fired a rocket at the wall to his left.

 

A glowing hole now gaped in the side of the building, about the size of a school bus. The men shouted and scrambled. One fell on his ass before hauling himself up to follow the others. They grabbed pistols from their belts and held them out with shaking arms. “Ey. Show yerself, pal,” one called out.

 

Tony grinned, and stepped out into plain view.

 

A round from a pistol glanced off the armor with a metallic clang. Rowdy bunch, weren’t they? “Hey now,” he said, holding his palms out. “That’s not very fair.”

 

One guy, who had an eyepatch, spat on the cement. Tony doubted he was actually missing an eye, but could completely understand the guy’s need to look badass despite having two fully functioning ones. “Fuck you, man,” the guy growled. He raised his gun and fired again, missing completely. The shot echoed throughout the warehouse as it buried itself in a wooden crate.

 

“Alrighty then,” Tony said. “Tit for tat, I guess.” He fired a blast from his hand.

 

It levelled the group of henchmen and peeled the paint from a delivery truck parked along the wall. Tony opened the faceplate and brought his fingers to his mouth, blowing on them as if blowing away smoke from a gun.

 

From there, it didn’t take long before he found where they were keeping Cap.

 

The basement hads a more lab-like feel to it, all shiny metal and plexiglass windows. It wasn’t his style of decorating but he could see the appeal. Most of the guys in white coats down there had gotten word of Tony’s arrival, he guessed from the blasting and shooting and general screaming. He met them in the hallway as they were fleeing, and gave one a swift kick in the ass to keep them on their way.

 

At the end of the hall were two double doors labelled “incarceration”. He pushed through them, expecting to find Steve bound to the wall or strapped down to a table or something of the like. Usually there was a pendulum of doom ready to slice them, or maybe a laser that would slowly try and cut them in half. But this room was different.

 

It was an observation room, with monitors and television set up in a console that faced the far wall. There, a clear wall and steel door separated a brightly-lit chamber, completely bare, white, and empty. In the corner sat a huddled form with their blond hair shining in the fluorescent light.

 

“Steve!” Tony shouted. He reached to pry open the heavy door to the chamber.

 

A shock ripped through the armor and jolted him down his bones. “Ah, fuck!” He snatched his hand back, breathing hard as his systems blinked back online. That would be why Steve hadn’t tried to escape.

 

Peering through the glass wall, Tony could see Steve raise his head. His face was sweaty and flushed, much like the rest of his naked body curled up against the wall. His eyes were glassy and rolling around. His lips, a deep red, were parted in a small gasp. Tony felt his stomach bottom out.

 

Behind him, a different door slip open. A man in a white coat stopped in his tracks, eyes wide, clipboard in hand. “H-hey, you can’t be in here!”

 

Tony grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up, pinning him to the glass. “What the hell are you doing to him?” he demanded.

 

The scientist scratched at the suit’s hand. “That’s classified informa-”

 

He squeezed his fingers and the man shrieked. Just like a squeaky toy, he thought. “We – ack! – wanted to test out an antiserum. One that would get rid of his super strength,” he gasped. “It didn’t work but it…had some interesting side effects.”

 

Tony threw him to the ground and watched him struggle to breathe, before turning his attention to the console. The scientist skittered out of the lab while he and Jarvis worked together to hack the security system and disarm the electrical field. After a few minutes the slight humming that was emanating from the chamber stopped.

 

He opened the door and stepped inside. “Steve?” he called. He flipped up the suit’s faceplate.

 

Steve’s eyes opened to rest unfocused on Tony’s form. His lids dropped halfway, one at a time, like those dolls kids used to have that had the creepy open-and-shut eyeballs. “Tony,” he murmured, managing to stretch the name into four syllables. He reached out one hand for him, giving Tony visual access to the planes of his naked chest and stomach. The other hand, he could see, was furiously pumping a raging hard-on.

 

“Woah, Steve!” Tony shouted, caught between covering his eyes and looking away to preserve some of his friend’s modesty. Whatever was left of it, anyway. “There’s a time and place for that. Like I have some Playboy mags back at the tower if you want, but for right now we really should get you home. Please.”

 

“Please,” Steve echoed. He hissed, as if every stroke on his dick was like rubbing salt into a fresh wound. Between Steve’s fingers Tony could see the flesh was swollen and beet red, thick veins protruding and pulsing with every rapid beat of his heart.

 

He swallowed against a hard lump in his throat. “Steve, come on,” he tried to coax, walking away a little to see if Steve would follow. “We have to go. I’m performing a daring rescue, you see.”

 

Steve’s hand dropped his dick, which bobbed in the air before snapping back to his abs. The rock-hard column slapped against the skin of his stomach like the spring on a mousetrap, sliding against the slippery mess that coated his abdomen. He shifted forward until he was on his hands and knees.

 

And fuck. Christ, he was crawling towards Tony.

 

His whole body was pink and slick, sliding on the white tile as he made his way over. His penis was no longer visible as it was pressed tight against his stomach, balls drawn in close to his body, skin stretched over his heavy testicles in a way that made Tony’s own balls ache.

 

“C-can you stand?” Tony stammered, heart hammering in his chest. He bent at the knees to slide an arm around Steve’s waist and pull him to his feet.

  
Steve howled, and when he looked down the armor was slick where the head of his dick had dragged across it, leaving a trail of pre-ejaculate.  “Sorry, sorry!” he said. When he pushed to distance their bodies, Steve clung to him like he would never let go.

 

“Tony,” he gasped. His forehead was resting against the cool armor. “It hurts.”

 

Something clenched in Tony’s stomach. “I’m so sorry Cap,” he said, running his metal fingers over Steve’s sweaty hair. “Where are your clothes?”

 

Steve ignored the question entirely. “I can’t…” he made a gesture to his throbbing erection, and couldn’t resist giving it another stroke. He moaned, but it sounded mostly of pain. “I..I…I can’t _come_. It won’t.”

 

Tony’s cheeks felt hot and tingly. God, that was the first time he’d ever heard Rogers say something so explicit. The guy seemed to have a – literal – case of blue balls.

 

An agonized whine slipped out of Steve’s swollen lips. “I…you have to help me, Tony.” He bucked his hips to slide his stiff member against the armor. The huge organ looked like it was ready to explode and swelling by the minute, drooling all over Tony’s waist.

 

Tony bit the inside of his cheek and screwed his eyes shut. “I can’t, Cap,” he forced out. “Are you even in your right mind, now?” With all of the drugs in his system Tony doubted it.

 

Steve slid down to his knees and leaned back. He clenched his hands at the air around his dick, which in that position jutted out straight to the ceiling. Hard, wet, and desperate to come. Steve was clearly struggling not to scream, and his voice was shaky and broken when he said, “It’s killing me. I can’t take it!” His hand kept flying to palm at his member, as if there were some sort of magnetic attraction, and crying out at every brush of contact. Every sound he made seemed to tighten a vice around Tony’s heart.

 

He watched as Steve lurched forward to crumple against the ground, howling in pain and bucking his hips against the slippery tile. It was unbearable, seeing Steve so completely uninhibited and vulnerable and nothing like his usual dignified self. It felt fundamentally wrong to watch, but Tony couldn’t look away.

 

He knelt beside the writhing form and removed his right armored glove. When he touched Steve’s back, it was searing hot and covered in sweat. “Jeez, Cap, you’re burning up,” he said, but Steve didn’t acknowledge that he had said anything. Tony sighed.

 

“Jarvis, how completely fucked up is it to give him what he wants right now?” Tony said quietly.

 

“I’m afraid I am the wrong AI to consult on ethically ambiguous matters, Sir,” Jarvis said. “Though I will say, since the Captain has specifically asked for your help and appears to be in significant pain without it, providing assistance may alleviate his symptoms. It could be that non-masturbatory stimulation is required.”

 

Certain he never wanted to hear Jarvis say “masturbatory” ever again, he put his hand on Steve’s back again. The body beneath his fingers arched back into him. God, this had better be Cap talking and not the “antiserum”, because Tony knew what it was like to be touched when you didn’t want to be. And there was no way he’d ever wish that feeling on his best friend.

 

Steve was breathing in short, pained huffs, like people do when they’re feeling nauseous. Tony watched as his flank rose and fell between his erratic bucking, following a bead of sweat as it trickled down the line of his obliques. Steve made a noise somewhere between a scream and a groan deep in his chest. “Tony,” he grunted. “H-help me.” His fingers clawed at the tile.

 

“I’m going to hell for this,” Tony announced. “Among other things, but definitely this makes the list.” He sat back against the wall. “C’mere, Cap. Let me take care of you.”

 

The writhing quieted to a slow undulation as Steve looked up at him. The fuzziness of his blue gaze seemed to sharpen just a slight bit as he picked himself up to crawl into Tony’s metal lap.

 

Tony grasped Steve by the hips – one hand armored, and one bare – and pushed him down until he was straddling the suit’s thighs. Steve’s cock was cherry red, swollen, and glistening inches from Tony’s hands, hard as concrete and dribbling precome all over those super-soldier abs. It was both long and girthy – which seemed unfair - and ramrod straight. It was probably the most American cock Tony had ever seen. His bare fingers itched.

 

“I’m gonna touch you, Cap, okay?” Tony said, releasing Steve’s hips for a second to hold his face still. He had to make sure Steve heard him on this one. “If you want me to stop, all you gotta do is–”

 

“Please!” Steve shouted, grabbing both of Tony’s hands and shoving them toward his aching dick. Careful not to overstimulate him, Tony used his armored hand to keep Steve’s hips still as the bare one wrapped around the base of his member.

 

Steve wailed, arching his back and throwing his head back. His lips were puffy and bitten, and almost as red as his cock. He immediately tried thrusting hard into Tony’s grip, but the suit ensured that even Captain America couldn’t overpower his hold.

 

Tony gave a light squeeze, and worked his hand over the velvety skin that pulsed under his touch. His hand slid up and over the crown, gathering moisture from the drooling slit and coating his dick on the downstroke. He made sure to twist under the tip, and squeeze around the base. Sliding up, he pushed Steve’s foreskin up and over the head and then back down, each vein like a thick cord under the skin.

 

Under his repeated ministrations Steve was losing it. He was panting like an animal, moaning unabashed in a very non-1940’s manner and acting more like a porn star than the actual porn stars Tony had slept with. His thighs flexed and moved him up and down like he was riding an invisible dick, each steely muscle starkly defined as they clenched.

 

Tony couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and flicked his tongue over Steve’s slit, and elicited the most tantalizing shriek he’d ever heard that went straight to his nether regions. His lips closed over the tip as he suckled gently. Steve was salty, and the Iron Man suit was getting a little crotch-tight.

 

A hand grabbed his, and Tony felt two fingers being drawn into a wet heat. A soft tongue lathered the digits in slick saliva, and when they withdrew, held a trail of spit from Steve’s mouth to Tony’s hand. He said nothing – Tony wasn’t sure Steve knew how it ask for it – and simply guided Tony to where he wanted his fingers.

 

Tony brushed against the tight ring of muscle between Steve’s perfect ass cheeks. He circled it with a finger, pushing a knuckle up against the spot between his balls and his hole, and Steve keened.

 

“Oh, God.” Steve gasped. His forehead fell until it was resting against Tony’s.  “It hurts. Don’t tease me. I need to…”

 

A slick finger worked its way into the heat of Steve. His words fell away, leaving only a wanton moan and broken mewls. When Steve was pliant enough for two more fingers, Tony felt it was time to finish what he’d started.

 

With squeezing muscles working against Tony’s scissoring fingers, his armored hand went back to Steve’s dick to grasp the pulsing member. The cool metal against his fevered skin must have been a shock, because at his touch Steve’s dick jumped.

 

“Tony,” Steve moaned. _“Hurry.”_

 

There was enough slickness to eliminate the friction as he started a furious pace, twisting his wrist, flicking at the head. His other hand had three fingers buried inside Steve and fucking his hole with rhythmic fervor. He felt around for Steve’s sweet spot inside him and stroked it with the pad of a finger.

 

At the last squeeze of his balls, Steve finally came.

 

It was with the scream of a man who had been on the edge of orgasm for hours but unable to make it over the crest. He shot thick streams of semen over the suit’s chest and belly, as well as his own, coating everything in heady, white ropes. He was rocking back and forth, curled in on himself. It was like his whole body was locked in one big spasm.

 

Most people look ridiculous when they come. Tony had a ritual of watching his partners as they came just to see what dumb face they made, but Steve was the exception, as he usually was. Steve looked absolutely divine when he came. His lips were parted just the right amount, eyebrows drawn in together and closed eyelashes fanned out on his cheeks. The fact that Tony had brought on that face made his own dick throb where it was pinned in the undersuit.

 

When Tony withdrew his fingers from inside Steve, his thighs wobbled and quivered. He collapsed against Tony. Steve’s breath puffed slowly against his face, and it took him a second to realize that Cap was out cold. He’d never had a partner who had actually passed out after orgasm; some had faked it, but Steve was a terrible faker. This was the real deal.

 

How they were going to deal with this when they got back to the tower, Tony didn’t know. He especially didn’t know what they were gonna do when S.H.E.I.L.D. made them fill out the mission report. But regardless of what was going to happen next, Tony found himself happy to simply wrap his sticky comrade in a protective embrace there on the floor. He had Steve Rogers curled up in his lap right then. He might as well enjoy it.


End file.
